


Coupons and PDA

by Fancifullauren



Category: Les Misérables (1972), Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Fluff, Fluff everywhere, I'm warning you, Kisses, M/M, Tickle Fights, YOU'LL PROBABLY PUKE GLITTER AND COTTON CANDY, cuteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-07
Updated: 2013-03-07
Packaged: 2017-12-04 13:08:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/711096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fancifullauren/pseuds/Fancifullauren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jehan is into extreme couponing and Courfeyrac grudgingly tags along.  Things escalate quickly, however, as Courfeyrac finds new ways to cure his boredom.  Cue fluffy adorableness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coupons and PDA

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Tumblr user thatswhatshowoffsdo. Enjoy! x

“Why do I even hang out with you?” Courfeyrac groaned, leaning all his weight into pushing the shopping cart. 

“Because you love me,” Jehan cheerily answered, continuing to load bottle upon bottle of shampoo into the cart. 

“You don’t even use that brand,” he complained. 

Jehan didn’t stop, only spared his lover a sly glance. “Since when are you keeping tabs of what kind of shampoo I’m using?” 

“Since I’ve been forced to use it.” 

“You could bring your own, you know.” 

Courfeyrac smiled and shook his head. “I like smelling like you, though.” 

In return, his lover leaned over the cart to place a gentle kiss on his cheek. “Quit complaining, then.” 

“It’s wasteful. What are we even going to do with it?” 

“We’re donating it, silly! And it’s not wasteful; I’ve got coupons. We’re getting these babies for two cents apiece,” stated the poet, glowing with pride. 

“You’re too benevolent for your own good,” he chuckled, finally resigning to help him pick bottles off the shelf. 

“I’m a poetry major. It’s not like all my time is filled with my studies. I’ve got time to clip coupons,” he defended himself. 

“Hey, no judgment! Although I could think of a few better ways to spend your time,” alluded the flirt, his hands abandoning his current task in order to wrap them around Jehan’s slim waist. He giggled in response, shying ever so slightly away from the touch. Being Courfeyrac, he took this as invitation to lightly brush his fingers over his shirt. Jehan swatted him away playfully. 

“No tickling in public!” He exclaimed, although his words were full of mirth and thus lacked any proper trace of authority. 

“Why not?” He cooed, pulling him closer. 

“We’ve got work to do. Come on now, let’s just empty this shelf and we can get home.” 

Courfeyrac’s hands flew to the bottles as he loaded the cart as fast as humanly possible. Once it was full, then proceeded to jump onto the cart and launch himself forward like a child racing around the aisles of the supermarket. Jehan burst out laughing as he pursued him. Just when he was about to catch Courfeyrac’s coat in a tight grip, he came to an abrupt stop as the heavy cart crashed into a display animal crackers, knocking it over and taking the cart with it. Bottles of shampoo tumbled to the ground along with Courfeyrac. 

Jehan couldn’t suppress his merriment in taking advantage of the situation. He pounced. His fingers wiggled into his abdomen, and Courfeyrac couldn’t help but break out into uncontrollable fit of laughter as he writhed around under his touch. “Stop, stop, no fair!” He choked out between breaths. 

Of course, Jehan paid no mind to his pleas as he continued to mercilessly tickle his adorable lover until he was red in the face from laughing so much. Courfeyrac had a difficult time bring his hands up to Jehan’s ribcage and pressing in with his index fingers, considering the frenzy of sensations Jehan was subjecting him to, but eventually he was able to jab him in his most sensitive spot – right below his ribs. He positively squealed in surprise, much to Courfeyrac’s delight. He seized the opportunity to surge forward and push him back so that he was lying face-up on the ground, his flirtations lover looming above him. 

“Gotcha,” he snickered with a wink. Jehan’s face morphed into a look of shock and euphoria all at once, his cheek dimples becoming so irresistibly pronounced that Courfeyrac couldn’t help but place a feather-soft kiss on each one before pulling back and resuming the attack. Between all the little poet’s squirming, Courfeyrac was able to drink in the marvelous look of elation on his face in the throes of the assault. The skin around his eyes was so scrunched and wrinkled that he was barely recognizable. 

The laughter was all broken up when a man came up behind them and loudly cleared his throat. Courfeyrac turned to see who had interrupted them. 

“If you two rug rats aren’t going to buy anything, then you need to leave,” Feuilly barked. There was a hint of sarcastic amusement in his eyes. 

The couple kept snickering as they helped each other up, leaving Feuilly to clean up their mess. They held hands while fleeing the store. 

“You’re never doing that again!” Jehan scolded teasingly once they had slowed down to a stroll on the sidewalk, a smile lighting up his entire expression. They were both gasping desperately for breath, their stomachs slightly sore from all the laughter and exertion. 

Courfeyrac beamed back at his precious love. “You’re the one who jumped on me!”

“Yeah, well you started it.” 

“Did not.” 

“Did too.” 

“Did not.” 

“Did too.” 

Instead of continuing the senselessness, he pulled Jehan into a kiss, the huge smirk still on his lips. This certainly didn’t make their labored breathing any easier; within a few seconds they both had to pull away to catch their breaths. 

Jehan leaned in to whisper in his ear, exhaling slightly before murmuring a quick “I love you” and turning to again seek out contact with his lover’s mouth. 

Instinctually Courfeyrac’s hands made their way into the soft blond waves of Jehan’s hair. “I love you, too, angel,” he managed to mutter against his lips between sweet, staccato kisses.


End file.
